“Come on!”
I blink and turn slowly, only to find her staring at me impatiently from the open window.
“You’re not scared anymore.” The words fall from my stunned lips.
“I know you’re mad, and we have so much more to talk about, but I need to get to Sam.”
“But . . .” What fucking good am I if I can’t scare away people who hurt Luke? This bitch just found out I murdered my entire family to protect Luke, and she’s treating me like . . . a friend? Something about that bothers the shit out of me. “Do you care that little about your life?” Why does her lack of self-preservation make my chest feel tight? Damn, this witch!
“I care a lot about my life. But if your plan is to kill me, you’ve had and will have plenty of opportunity to carry that out. For now, please just take me to my truck.”
Dumb-fucking-struck.
I numbly walk to the truck, turn it on, and take Shyann to her truck, parked at the work site. She climbs out, slams the door, but sticks her head through the open window, sleek and shiny black hair spilling in too. “Unless you plan on letting Lucas come forward, you better take off. I’ll cover for you.”
What the fuck! “I don’t need you covering—”
“You may not know this but it’s pretty obvious you’re not him. It’s . . . um . . .” She motions to her own eyes and a tiny blush colors her cheeks. “All in here. Your expressions, they’re different.”
Protecting Lucas. Again. “I—”
“We’ll talk later, okay?”
Reassuring me?
I’m speechless.
She thumps the hood of the truck twice in goodbye and jogs away.
Who the fuck is this woman?
She’s throwing up a big fat fuck you to every single thing I thought I knew.
For the first time in forever I feel . . . useless.
TWENTY-EIGHT
SHYANN
I slam through the hospital doors and skid to a stop in the waiting room. The place is filled with people, all quiet, and now staring at me.
The Payson Regional Medical Center is a hospital that matches its town: small, unimpressive, but functional. I spot the reception desk and move to it, eyes on a petite brunette whose friendly smile is aimed my way.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah, I was told Samantha Crawford was brought here?”
She frowns. “Yes, are you family?”
“No, but—”
“Shy?”
I whip my head toward the deep male voice calling my name and my eyes narrow. “Dustin, I just heard. How is she?”
The whites of his eyes are bloodshot and the skin surrounding them is puffy. He jerks his head toward a section of the room that’s mostly empty except for a man and an elderly woman who is engrossed in knitting a pink blanket. We drop down to a couple of plastic chairs in the corner.
“It’s bad, Shy . . .” His voice is unsteady. “Her face, it’s—”
“You were there?”
“No, she called me. I could barely make out what she was saying, so I called nine-one-one and raced to her house.” His eyes fill with tears. “I beat the ambulance. Door was wide open and I could hear her moaning.”
“Someone broke in?”
He shrugs. “Don’t know. By the time I got to her, she took one look at me and passed out. She’d been there for a while; all the blood was old. Must’ve happened in the night.” He leans forward, putting his head in his hands. “She’d been beaten pretty bad. Her face, her body, God . . . Shy, I hardly recognized her.”
My throat swells and a shiver races down my spine. Could the Shadow have moved into Payson? It’s always been a relatively safe town. Besides the bar fights and the occasional domestic disturbances, the crime rate is lower than the bigger cities that surround it.
“What do the cops think happened?”
“They’re investigating. Can’t get a statement out of her until she recovers enough to talk.” He cringes. “If she recovers enough to talk.”
I slump back in my seat and dig the heels of my palms into my eyes. I don’t know enough about the life Sam lives to speculate who would’ve done this to her. As far as I know, she dates freely, has a few friends, but doesn’t seem to have any real enemies. The more my mind attempts to come up with a logical suspect, the more related to the Shadow attacks this seems.
“Thing is, everyone knows everyone in this town and no one seems to have seen shit.” He tilts his head to look up at me. “How is that possible, Shy? Not a single witness?”
There’s so much pain in his eyes that I feel guilty for any anger I had at their being together. He clearly cares for her.
“Dustin, what if her attack is part of the ones happening in Phoenix and Flag?”
“Maybe. Although . . .” He blows out a shaky breath. “Girls at Pete’s said they saw that kid Lucas with her.”
My breath freezes in my lungs.